Interlude: The Beginning of the End
by NapoleonVI
Summary: A one-shot. Refer to the previous story: Anarchy and the Detective to know what you missed before reading. After the chaos in Canada, one wonders what the future holds for someone who lives for chaos...


Anarchy and the Detective: Interlude

Unknown Location, 13:45

Simply put, in Harris' own words as he sat quietly down at the local café his legs stretched lazily and an arm loosely hanging on the arm rest sipping on his daily cup of warm milk latte under the afternoon sun, things had gone to absolute shit. He hadn't even woken up from bed this morning and he already had an irritating call to interrupt his particularly normal day, one supposed unwanted call from a certain terrorist friend he wished he never met asking for an appointment to meet up and chat…no less on Interpol's, might he add to his shock and horror, most wanted hit list for biggest threat to humanity known. Sighing deeply in melancholy at his own bad luck Harris took another big gulp of his latte cup, the hot liquid burning his throat as he gagged slightly on the hiss of coffee scalding his tongue before he settled it down thoughts beginning to circulate and scenarios playing out in his mind towards the oncoming storm he would face, his hazel brown eyes snatched hungry glances at his watch hoping that he wouldn't have to go through with this.

1:59

Harris said nothing, his hands now fiddling with a brown colored folder that sat on top of the coffee table silence rang through the Saturday atmosphere by the near empty café save only for a couple of staff and customers still enjoying the summer breeze, the traffic almost close to a ghost town for a weekend when it should be swarming with visitors and families alike by this time of year. He turned to open the folder nonchalantly, his lips still wet from the coffee as he wiped a corner of his mouth with the back of his palm eyeing the detail with disdain. In it, the page contained a singular photo of a young woman in her early 20's with ebony black hair cut short and left at neck length with a fringe slightly overshadowing the corner of her bright, but creepy, white eye staring blankly in the direction of the photographer giving the man an involuntary shiver when he stared a bit longer at the face than he should…if anything else any man would have dismissed this person as a loved one or a cold case file of a missing person (Harris only imagined it but seeing his job description somewhat makes it valid), but he knew better especially since he asked him to look into it through the international records and track down said person pictured on the folder and in his words only told him she was 'someone I want to surprise' whatever the hell that meant to that psychopath. Speaking of it…

Amos Casteon. A man unknown to the world because of his elusive birth and subsequent involvement in certain incidents spanning the globe to earn the infamous and most horrible position in the international community's eyes, he had risen from the ashes and took the world by storm through his orthodox methods of terrorism the man soon became the 4th most dangerous and also the deadliest of the many criminals who ended as the 'everyday' nuisance by the police and other organisations, men who weren't even worth a cent compared to this hardened veteran of sabotage and cunning mind of such a horror. When he first met him in the midst of a massacre at a American airport more than 5 years ago, the man had looked way more youthful and more joyous at the carnage he would wrought and it stunned him…shook him to the core it seems whenever his eyes stared blankly at someone or even him would send anyone recoiling in fear. But now, something changed in recent years especially the day after the asylum attack where he escaped from police and evaded a top investigator in Canada like when a secret recording in his hotel room was reviewed the voice sounded drained and distant from any great scheming or no mentions of plans to move against anyone. Well, he knew more changes because of the precautions every country put up to catch this man on the run and the recordings and videos of his acts were more enlightening on his situation now that some of his superiors believed he was soon going to give himself in from the stress and paranoia of being hunted not just by authorities, but according to more recordings and inside men spying on various organisations mentions of plans to either incorporate or plan a hit on the infamous bomber were ripe and abound with small negotiations for alliances, supposedly small skirmishes escalating between mob bosses and terrorist groups alike all for the unhindered cooperation of one single man who evaded the police for so long without even a care in the world. Harris had a small respect for the man carrying on doing what he did without dreaming of those dead faces at night, but that respect also came with more disgust and resentment at his actions.

"And here we are." Harris didn't even need to look up and guess who would approach him, a small frown tugged his lips as he tried to simmer his anger by glaring at the coffee behind dark sunglasses.

"You are suicidal to think you can wander in a café in the middle of the afternoon here." At that the shadow gave a laugh, the agent shivering slightly at the memories it awoke.

"Too true, Harris but you have to remember that it doesn't matter whether you have backup here or not you are at my mercy at this range. But all that aside, the last time we met you were the lone survivor and I had no ammo to put in you then…I generally couldn't imagine you were the biggest thorn in my side back then."

"Well, I do and please. But it doesn't mean shit if I died, another like me will take my place to terrorize you until your bag of tricks run dry and from where I'm standing," Harris turned to glance up at Casteon's sharp eyes and the familiar smirk that he wore like a mask. "You're pretty much out of tricks to use." Casteon only could grunt, his smile disappearing as he walked over and took a seat opposite the Interpol agent a hand waving to a waiter glancing at the menu for a second.

"Lunch 2, and give me herbal tea if you would. Thank you."

"Eating your last meal, Casteon? Seems early for it though I wouldn't put past you to do things on your own terms." Harris remarked jokingly, as the waiter nodded and walked back into the café while the bomber stretched his arms out in exaggeration and mock shock.

"A joker and a morbid piece of Interpol filth rubbed together from the King of England's royal ass. I'm charmed you still have such humor left."

"The memory's clear as day. Sarcasm seems to be your new sense of humor." Casteon couldn't help but smile nostalgically at best, the agent noting a tint of genuine calm and peace in his tone as he set his coffee down again with a serious face the purpose of this meeting coming round full circle.

"A Kirigiri came to my house today." The statement sent a chill down Harris' own body as he noted the bomber tense up sharply before it relaxed, the agent already having a hand on his gun for sudden aggression from the criminal. Even with the small team of Interpol agents nearby as backup he couldn't risk a shootout with the man, and one on one confrontations normally end badly as he experienced first-hand.

He had been careless back then, but then again so did every agent back at the corps, it was just how badly you had screwed up that will speak volumes about the mission no matter which method you picked. But it was just that the recent years had made the hardened veteran agent more guarded against sudden moves, especially the global attack more than 5 years ago which gave rise to vigilantes in costumes and gadgets or even superpowers…the world in short had gotten complicated and stuffed with unnecessary shit Harris was beginning to consider retirement. At the airport he had thought he managed to take down one of the most dangerous and experienced criminals, but it was evident from what he was forced to witness in there and more importantly what Casteon did to his mind when he was there had gone beyond comprehension and also that despite all he went through, it wasn't enough when the man escaped him by exposing a weakness in the system. He had read up on the Canadian detective's report on the situation in the asylum, and as the usual M.O. of explosives and extreme mental trauma inflicted on the poor man even Harris could understand his initial hesitation when the new bureau chief gave him a few weeks to hand it in.

"Who was it?"

"Unless you know her, she didn't say. All she asked for was information I could provide on you, and left after asking me some questions and browsing my documents. She said she would be expecting you soon, and when you called after her visit I had to switch to my mobile to call you and that request you asked for." The bomber now looked intrigued, the brown folder tossed towards him as he glanced at Harris his eyes stared for about a full minute not even noticing the waiter put his order down and left after sensing the drop in temperature among the two men.

"This is all you had on her?" The question almost came as a statement, the agent waited patiently while he grasped the folder opening it while he took the cup of tea in his other hand to drink his eyes going to deep concentration scrambling over the profile. All was silent for a few seconds before the bomber looked at Harris with a look of appreciation, his mind considering something before he spoke again.

"How did she die?"

"Kirigiri says she died before everyone's eyes, killed by her sister." The mention of those sisters made even Harris shiver not just their age at the time but what they did, the woman in the folder much so. Joining up with the elite group FENRIS for a time no matter how long showed a fearsome reputation in the criminal underworld and Harris in his years had faced adversaries or mercenary groups who were either former operatives or their head was and those gunfights scared him. He had seen a singular operative take down more than 8 men before being put down himself, and knowing they preyed on the next generation as well as the brightest of minds made him uncomfortable…for him it was a miracle the damage inflicted outside of Japan was not so extensive in many areas, and that there was even a congregation of governments still alive to restore order and rebuild.

"I see."

"You don't seem worried." Harris stated coldly, earning a sharp look from the bomber as his face contorted into one of deep anger.

"They deserved what they got." The bomber tapped his finger rhythmically on the table as he took a fork and stabbed into the steak on the plate, bringing the whole piece to his mouth as he chewed off small pieces of it casually using the cloth provided to wipe his mouth. Harris couldn't argue with that, he also could see that what they caused years ago was an intentional game…how the hell did the world government managed to recover from that massive incident would stump him as it did back then.

"The massacre of the airport back then…was it part of their plan?"

"No, I was there to find my own way out of the mess when it hit globally with men and women in bear masks trying to break in so I made a choice."

"2500 died because of that choice, most of them unarmed civilians trapped in the exchange…but you didn't give a damn about either of them anyway." Harris almost wanted to leap out and wrap his hands around that neck of his, but decided for gripping the armrest of the chair but the growl didn't pass Casteon's observant eyes.

"I gave them liberty from misguided revenge of peasants and commonfolk. You should thank me, those explosives weren't cheap knock-offs like C4…the newest brand, capable of twice the punch and range of a simple C4 package and had good uses." Harris was desperately trying not to even get up then and walk away in disgust; instead he glanced upwards at a nearby building to avoid the bomber's figure.

"You only gave slaughter a dignified name, and painted it in red." Harris shot back, silence gripping Casteon as he gritted his teeth but the flash of killing intent disappeared as he continued to eat.

"Hmmm, this is one way of viewing something but the world perspective has none of these. It is a disgusting hole that men and women crawl towards, drawn towards fame and glory for one's self while others do things for a good cause to find it hurts many more than good. All we do, is survive and see the end of the journey and what do we get? Nothing, we get stagnant eventually and wilt and die…why you bother to continue living is beyond me when you could do something for the good of the world that could be called _drastic_." Casteon took a sip of his tea, a small frown etched on his hardened features as he began his speech.

"I believe the Christians had a good point, one day the world's gonna end because of people who are anti-Christs and false prophets spewing propaganda to the people but with one major difference…" he took another drink as he slowly brought his knife to the meat, cutting it slowly like a careful message carving itself for the Interpol agent to watch tensely as he looked at him with a crack of a smile. "The only difference between their beliefs and mine…is that since I'm sick of the world, sick of living and not willing to commit suicide, why not speed up the process leading up to the Apocolypse by bringing conflict just one more step closer to the end? A very good and more purposeful intention, don't you think?"

"You're crazy. And how does that even help?" Harris spoke the last part softly, his fingers thumbing the holster inside his jacket for his gun. Casteon simply smirked and eyed him thoroughly before he set his cutlery down, his hands clasped in front of him casually.

"Because I believe it's my purpose." At that moment, a siren barked out from behind the bomber as Harris brought out his weapon as fast as he could only to be thwarted by a well-placed strike while he got up, his feet tripping over from the bomber's sweep kick knocking the chair as he slid across the table a small sound of a blade echoed slightly before he sent an open palm to the agent's face feeling his palm slam in Harris' nose breaking it. Harris, too stunned by the sudden action recoiled back to get his bearing but was outmaneuvered by Casteon who twirled around him, a firm grip on his firing arm's wrist as he brought it behind him the agent barely registering the wristblade pointing at his neck making a thin red line.

"Still too slow, Harris." Casteon sighed in mock annoyance, his smirk never leaving his face as he forced himself and the agent backwards onto the street taking note of the agents situated in the nearby buildings the small red lasers diving all around the duo for a disarming shot as the bomber moved his wristblade to the back of the agent.

"Move and this goes into your back. You obviously know that these odds are still in my favor, I knew you were bringing some friends with you for the party but this is overkill." Harris simply smiled grimly back at the bomber, his mind struggling to think of a plan as he struggled slightly against the hold.

"You're finished here. I got the back of the best teams in Interpol tracing your sorry ass since you gave me that call, even if I die here it doesn't matter when you're caught."

"Well I just have to see about it don't I?" Casteon shot back, his face with some worry as a squad of men took positions in front of them their weapons lowered but ready to fire while the leader spoke with an announcer on hand as more sirens rang through the neighborhood indicating oncoming forces.

"Casteon! Nowhere to run, drop Agent Harris and we can bring this to a quiet end!"

"I'm not going quietly you hear? I will not give this up until my final breath!" Casteon literally poured out an aura of a cornered man as the teams advanced slowly towards him, the bomber not noticing a small figure crouched behind a nearby wall next to him as he continued to move back.

"I won't go like this! You corrupted shits!" Harris took a glance sideways at the corner of the wall noting the figure in position behind some trash cans before he reacted by throwing his head backwards, his head met the front of the bomber in a sickening crunch as the man recoiled back in pain while the figure from the wall jumped out, locking Casteon's elbow and wrist with her gloved hands before she pivoted throwing the bomber off balance on the ground emitting a small grunt from Casteon.

"You weren't so lucky this time 'round, we win." Casteon simply glared back at him, his eyes falling towards the figure who held him down as his eyes widened slightly. Above him stood a lean figure of a woman in her late 20's dressed in a black formal top and tie, her skirt only just above her kneecaps which had stockings covering her legs with light purple hair and equally milky eyes staring him down before he simply sighed.

"Kyouko-chan, it's been a while." Seeing her silence the man simply sighed, frowning as he eyed her over once. "Still hate me for doing that job back in Japan huh? Look I'm sorry, but even without my intervention you knew you would get those…marks on your hands from that man." He said with a hint of human pity before the woman simply gave a grunt in response tightening the lock by pressing Casteon's wrist downwards causing him to hiss at the strain threatening to break his hand if he made a move, the bomber looked away for a moment before he turned back to the Interpol agent a flash of defiance in the situation.

"I give you a chance now Harris, both you and Kirigiri back the fuck off me…or I won't be responsible for what happens to you and your crew." Harris simply nodded tauntingly at Casteon's threat before he gave his reply.

"This isn't your game anymore, we have you-"Harris never finished before a sudden jolt punched through his body, his eyes widened in shock as he turned to face the squad of Interpol agents his eyes falling to one of them with a smoking gun pointed at him.

"Wha-"The woman Kirigiri instantly felt her reflex kick in as she ducked towards Harris knocking him to the ground as the squad of men turned around and fired onto their shocked colleagues, two of them firing at the duo's direction as Casteon rolled out of the way pulling out his pistol and fired catching Kirigiri in the shoulder as she flipped to her feet, carrying Harris away from the gunfire to the next alley as Casteon gave chase holstering his weapon as he ran in pursuit.

* * *

Kirigiri gave a sharp hiss as she looked at the hole in her shoulder, her remaining arm struggling with Harris who was breathing laboriously as her eyes trailed to his white shirt stained red with blood a small grit of her teeth only revealing the irritation and desperation she held as she turned another corner the footsteps of the bomber echoing behind her slowly recede into the distance. Looking back to see whether Casteon had caught up with them, the detective breathed slightly in relief before she set the wounded agent against the brick wall a cry of pain bringing the man back to the world as he gritted his teeth in ragged breaths casting a hand onto his chest feeling the slippery fabric before bringing it to his face noting the blood.

"You're in a near-death state, we need to get you patched up a little first before moving." The statement from the woman was monotonous as before, when he first met her in his house but experience detected a great effort to hide concern and visible worry of the situation going out of hand so fast. Struggling to sit up properly, Harris came to a decision as he looked at the hurt woman noting her right arm limply hanging with the bullet hole visible from her shoulder his arm fiddling with the insides of his jacket to bring out his gun, his face tightening in annoyance along with pain.

"Leave me here, get my gun and take yourself to safety." The woman shook her head slightly, the blank frown still attached to her face as she stood near the wall finding cover in the alley looking back for any sign of someone running around. Harris took the time to rest up and gather his thoughts and diminishing strength, his eyes wondering how the woman ran all this way and had not even showed signs of fatigue yet.

"No, we go together. The bullet wound isn't too serious yet, but you can still die if you continue to waste time." Harris shook his head, his lips twitching to make a smile as he shakily brought the gun to his side in assurance.

"I don't need you dying on me, you're a woman with a lot more years left than mine. Save yourself and live another day." He spoke hoarsely, using the wall to push himself up only to slide back down onto the bloody floor as Kirigiri moved to his side the agent feeling her strong arms hoist him up bringing his arm over her shoulder, Harris realizing the woman using her injured arm as his support.

"Kirigiri…"

"Don't talk, if you can aim your gun and shoot we will be out of here in no time." Nodding in acknowledgement, the agent took another ragged breath as he and Kirigiri departed turning another corner straight into one of the Interpol men who noticed them, his eyes in recognition as he turned to bring his gun up yelling for his comrades.

"I found them-urk!" The man slumped to the floor as Harris brought the gun back to his side, Kirigiri pausing as she looked left slowing their pace.

"More are coming." Harris nodded as he brought his pistol out, two men coming around the corner towards their fallen man before one of them was shot in the head by the agent crumpling to the floor alerting his companion who brought his gun up before a burst of fire sent him sprawling to the ground, Kirigiri giving a sigh as she lowered the submachine gun to her side letting the agent take a short break before she moved again Harris thankful for the small privilege for air before they continued, turning right where the men came from and moving towards the next corner.

"Ok, the street's around here. If we're lucky these are the only three and I called for backup already through the tracker. Then, we go to the car-"

_Bang!_

_Drip, drip…_

* * *

Time seemed to pause as Kirigiri hardly noticed the gunshot, her face went completely white as she felt a bullet pass through her abdomen while Harris' unmistakable voice called out to her as the environment began to swirl in patterns as she looked down to register the wound before another bullet sent her to the ground, her grip loosened as Harris tumbled onto the ground in front of her as shots were fired back at the corner. Harris began to fire back, his arm reaching for another magazine in preparation as he cursed their disadvantageous position now his eyes glanced with fear at the detective lying still on the ground bleeding from the two wounds before the figure moved out again, Harris replying with a well-aimed shot to the head sending the attacker to the floor unmoving before the agent crawled over to Kirigiri his gun still in hand.

"Look what we have here." Harris froze, his body unable to pivot itself in time before his world went black his last vision was his head hitting the floor.

Kirigiri had experienced many things while she was in the detective agency back in Japan, and it was that expecting plans would always have complications and even obstacles that tip the odds against her could be tipped back into trump cards against their creators…the latter she learnt very well during her temporal incarceration in a school building trapped with a psychopath with multiple personalities and several others drove the point closer to home. Even before that she had been involved with cases as part of the family tradition in which one of them broke her trust in others, going as far as to scar her with opening up too quickly with strangers even if she trusted them but it wasn't until later did one manage to break her shell and even got her to trust him after he sacrificed so much for her when everyone else couldn't do the same, a symbol of hope when the darkness was there to break the cycle of despair. And now, as she lay there twitching and bleeding on the concrete she said a silent apology to the very same man who was waiting for her back there, his sad smile when he heard she would be gone for an indefinite time hunting down this Casteon from her past and his embarrassed face when she kissed his cheek and told him she would be back, the promise to bring her out when she returned all flashed briefly before her eyes as the image of the brown-haired boy with hopeful eyes and smiling brightly met her dull purple eyes.

"It seems I won't be coming back." The detective's voice silently declared, her eyes managed to only see Casteon emerge at the end of the alley walking towards her before she passed out from the blood loss a peaceful feeling swelled inside as she gave herself to it, the next words rolling out of the man's mouth was nothing but a blur as another shadow vaguely revealed itself.

* * *

"This was unnecessary. You didn't need to shoot her." Casteon spat out, his eyes blazing with hatred at the figure dressed in a combat jacket his hair a little wavy with a small reticle over his left eye and cargo pants glared back at him, gunpowder smoke emanating from the man's dual-wrist hand cannon. He ignored the bomber's remark as he moved over to the Interpol agent, a small smile on his lips as he observed his handiwork with some appreciation brushing his gloved hand over the agent and touching the two bullet holes in the man's forehead and chest, the gun lying uselessly at the former agent's side.

"They were getting away, Harris was my contract not yours." He stated coldly, Casteon's teeth grit in annoyance as he stared at the breathing body of Kirigiri as he flicked out a phone and dialed the ambulance. While he was waiting, he moved over to the girl placing two fingers at her neck and sighed in relief at her still beating pulse much to the chagrin of the assassin who observed the scene with disdain but his eyes were now looking at the half-dead girl eyes closed as if in acceptance for what was happening to her, the look making the assassin twitch subconsciously as a finger traced his left arm on the wrist cannon.

"Who's she to you anyway? Guess it don't matter, someone contracted a hit on her too so it's a bonus if I just went my way with her-"The man didn't flinch when he felt himself thrown against the wall, facing a very angry terrorist bomber who glared at him with gnashed teeth and blazing eyes a deep raspy voice cut any more words from him.

"Deadshot, I'll tell you again slowly so you can understand. She's. Not. To be. Killed." Deadshot simply snorted in defiance as he smirked at Casteon, his own eyes taunting him to make a brash move against him before a click was heard from the bomber's free hand lying at his side the assassin tilting his head towards the hand with the phone returning the glare with his own.

"Too late for the hurt part, but she'll die if you don't answer that phone." Gesturing to the phone entering voice-mail, the bomber released his pin on the man moving away to push some buttons on the phone while he kept a glare on the assassin who ripped the agent's name-card and wallet from his body, Casteon heard a small whistle and 'jackpot' from the hired killer before he gave the best impersonation of a terrified man, screaming and breathing heavily while talking incoherently before he gave the position of the detective. It didn't take long for an emergency dispatch to arrive in five minutes, the bomber wanting to be gone by then as he reached into his pocket to fish out a small vial of blood-red liquid bringing it to the girl's lips as he manually fed her the contents his eyes shifted to see the bleeding recede into tiny trickles and droplets. Deadshot, satisfied with the outcome of the hit, decided to move towards the woman before he heard a gun click to his side the assassin merely gave an exasperated sigh at the stubborn action of his temporal partner.

"Relax, tough guy I'll take her ID and use it as proof I made the hit. I suggest you get out of here now or waste time with petty threats and try to fight me, knowing of course that you'll drop to the floor before you can say 'bullseye'." Casteon didn't hesitate as he gave a nod, withdrawing his pistol as the assassin snatched the detective's identity card bloodied slightly from the bleeding before he moved out the alley pausing momentarily to look at the bomber with hardened eyes before he gave a final warning towards the terrorist.

"Make sure your friend changes her name, or I'll have to come after her again and next time…I won't miss." Casteon didn't even need to reply, he knew the assassin was serious in his threats and the fact that he was leagues above what he could do made the threat more weighty on him before the footsteps disappeared into the near-empty street. Turning towards the exit, Casteon looked back at his fallen antagonists before he spoke in a softer tone than he would use a solemn stare in his eyes as the gunfire continued to rage a few blocks away from them, getting closer as he made his escape out the alley.

"The end is coming soon, the world will soon forget my existence. Treasure it while you can detective, and goodbye."

Interlude: End


End file.
